Shake It! A Series of One Shots
by CSINaomi
Summary: E/C Moments inspired by CSINaomi's favorite songs of the day...
1. Shake It!

**A/N: **Okay, so I've never done this before and this "shot" came to me while I was driving around with the radio blasting **Metro Station's**_ Shake it! _I didn't know the lyrics, so of course I had to discover them (thank goodness for the internet!) and then it still fit, so I wrote. Anyways, this is all to say – you have to imagine this song and try not to judge me too harshly, okay? : )

**Disclaimer:** Y'all know that I don't own CSI: Miami, right? I also don't own a bit of Metro Station's music or lyrics... in case you were wondering! :)

_Shake it!_ excerpt

_Now if she does it like this will you do it like that_

_Now if she touches like this, will you touch her right back_

_Now if she moves like this, will you move it like that (come on)_

_Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, uh shake it_

_I saw you dancing and I couldn't get you off my mind_

_(I could tell that you could tell that I was takin' my time)_

_I was thinking of ways that you would stay and be mine_

_(Your body's shaking, turn me on, so I can turn off the lights)_

There was something about watching her in an interrogation that drew him. If he had believed in Sirens, he might have though her one. Whatever it was about her, he could not get Calleigh Duquesne out of his mind at times like this.

He had heard her heeled boots clicking out a quick staccato beat against the tile before he saw her. Thankfully her eyes kept their focus straight ahead as she passed his lab… those beautiful lawn green eyes that held a touch of cold in them as she prepared for her task.

He was towed into her wake, following her silently toward the glass enclosed suspect. She had her kit hanging delicately from her hand as she paused at the door. He found himself thinking of ways to follow her inside; instead he paused just out of Calleigh's sight. He felt his insides warming as he considered what was coming next.

She set her kit on the table and slipped gloves onto her delicate fingers. He could imagine those fingers wrapped around strands of his hair. Shaking himself slightly, he refocused on the vision in black before him. She removed a small box, a round white wipe and a spray bottle from her kit. _GSR…_ he knew how she loved to nail them with gun evidence. It was a joy to watch.

He observed as she swabbed the suspect's hands, placed the swab in the box and shook it. God, he loved to watch her shake that box. It brought a light to her eyes; he could almost feel the joy radiating off of her body as the little box turned blue and it tugged his body and his heart toward the window.

A smile graced her face as she motioned to the officer to arrest her shooter. It was intoxicating; he felt as though he could almost taste her lips.

Then he realized that that sweet bliss was his; she stood on her toes before him and pulled his head down toward hers.

"I love when you watch me, too, Eric," she whispered through his haze.

The End...

_FYI... Sirens are Greek mythological seductresses - an interesting study if you ever have the time. And, just in case you didn't know - GSR is gun shot residue._


	2. In My Shirt

**A/N:** Once again the muses of DuDe have struck me and I had to submit :) Hope you enjoy! Please read and review. If anyone has any inspiring song ideas for me, please send me a PM (don't worry you'll receive credit!!).

**Disclaimer:** If only I was so lucky as to own anything CSI: Miami, well, my world would be a happier place. I also don't own one bit of Keith Urban's song _You Look Good In My Shirt _and give him many thanks for the inspiration that it provided in this instance!

_**You Look Good In My Shirt**_ excerpt

_And maybe it's a little too early_

_To know if this is gonna work_

_All I know is you're sure looking_

_Good in my shirt_

_That's right_

_You look good in my shirt_

_Well now I'm not saying that we solved overnight_

_Every way that we went wrong_

_Oh, but what I'm seeing I'd sure love seeing_

_Every morning from now on_

_And maybe it's a little too early_

_To know if this is gonna work_

_All I know is you're sure looking_

_Good in my shirt_

_Men._ She had caught his reflection in her lab window five minutes ago, staring at her as she processed samples. She knew why he was watching. He thought that no one could see him from Trace.

_It was a mistake, right? Just a slip. It didn't mean a thing. Who do I think I'm kidding?_ He assumed that to anyone who happened to pass he looked thoughtful, maybe preoccupied, considering a piece of evidence perhaps. No one would recognize the direction of his gaze. The problem was that he knew. He knew what was under her fitted lab coat, what was tucked into her black slacks. **His shirt.**

Sorting through evidence bags from the team's latest crime scene, she sorted through her jumbled memories of the previous night. It had started to simply - colliding as she walked out and he strode into the locker room. Her head had been down, she lost her balance, he caught her. Simple... if he had let go quickly. Easy... if she hadn't let the aching in her heart leak out in her gaze. But he hadn't and she had. Not so simple any longer.

He continued to watch her, remembering how she had felt as she fell into his arms the night before. The way that her head tucked into his chest. The quickening of her heartbeat through their shirts, against his skin. No matter what had happened, one thing would never change - Calleigh Duquense felt like home. And last night, despite the stupid cliche, they both came home.

_It was his own fault_, she told herself. If he had let her leave this morning instead of leisurely feeding her breakfast in bed, he would not be burning a hole in her back with his gaze. If he hadn't insisted on "cleaning up my mess" from the syrup he _accidentally _dripped on her chin and her chest, she would be wearing a perfectly tailored blouse and clean, pressed pants. But that would have required a trip home and he had left no time for that. If she was honest, she would admit to herself that they had left no time for that.

Just knowing that his blue shirt was there, remembering the line that they had crossed, realizing the symbolism that it held was driving him mad. And it was reminding him of the heat of her kiss, the smoothness of her skin... he shifted on his stool as he recounted the number of times his name had fallen as a whimper from her lips. _All this from a shirt... god, she looks good in my clothes. I could watch this all day for the rest of my life and never get enough. _He shook his head, trying to refocus on analyzing their relationship.

_Men! Fine, if that's how we are going to play it... try this on for size, Mr. Delko._ She removed her labcoat, smoothing it over the back of a neighboring chair. As she turned back to her work, she purposely dropped an evidence bag to the floor. She glanced quickly at Eric's reflection to make sure he was still watching, then slowly, purposefully she bent to retrieve it.

_Oh, god... she knows I've been watching._ All further thought left his head as Calleigh bent at her waist, the motion showing off all of her most feminine parts, including more cleavage that he was certain she usually displayed around the lab.

Forcing himself to breathe, he gathered all of his strength to walk the fifteen feet necessary to reach her workstation. She gasped lightly as one of his warm hands wrapped over her eyes and the other fingered her shirt collar. She could not help the smile that graced her lips.

'You need to be careful, Cal, you never know who might be watching.'

'Do I have something to be worried about, Mr. Delko?'

'Only if you continue to wear men's clothing around the lab, Ms. Duquense.'

'Well, if you find someone who wants to retreive his shirt, let him know that it will be available at 8 PM tonight at my place.'

'Understood.'

She lit the last candle in her living room, knowing that her words had been neither mysterious or disguised. The doorbell rang at 8 o'clock sharp.

She barely had the door opened when she was wrapped in a pair of strong Cuban arms. It was deliciously torturous to feel his lips near her ear as he whispered, 'God, Calleigh, you look good in my shirt.'


	3. Unsigned Letter

**A/N: Once again I own neither CSI: Miami or any of its characters. I also don't own and didn't write the Garth Brooks song **_**Unsigned Letter **_**(he actually performed and recorded this song as Chris Gaines - some alter-ego, of sorts... I suppose we all have one, right?).**

**Unsigned Letter (Pandora's Box)**

She got an unsigned letter from her secret someone

And she fell into the mystery

Words were few and specifically vague

Intrinsic intrigue

But it said everything

When it just read "Come to me."

She's always been that responsible someone

Safe within her simplicity

But all this cloak and dagger is stoking her heart

Stroking her curiosity

Is plain little Jane

Gonna risk everything

Is she gonna strike the match

That'll surely light the flame

Is she carrying a torch for love in vain

Is she gonna break the locks

Take a look inside the box

Knowing that she could release Pandora's shame

Welcome to the game

What's in a name

**

'Calleigh? Calleigh!' he stated more firmly, touching her lightly on the shoulder.

'My goodness. Didn't your mama ever teach you not to sneak up on a girl, Eric Delko?'

He smirked at her. 'Cal, if _sneaking_ is now defined as knocking three times, calling your name as I come into the lab and gently tapping your arm, then the answer is no - Mama never taught me anything about that.'

'Very funny, mister. Okay, I'll admit that I _may_ have been a little bit distracted. What can I do with... for you?' A pale pink blush highlighted her cheeks.

'Well, I came to get the ballistics report from this morning's call-out, but now I'm more interested in what has you so distracted - care to share?'

'I don't know, Eric,' she hedged.

He tipped his head and gave her the full Delko grin.

_Damn that smile._ 'There was a note in my locker this morning. A post-ie note on a key card to a suite at The Shore Club for tonight.'

'Wow.' He tried to hide his emotions. 'So what did the note say and are you going to go?'

She blushed again... deeper this time, redder. Shaking her head, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, 'Eric, I can't talk about this.' She turned away from him to the safety of her world, her lab. 'Here's the report you wanted. The shot was fired from the gun in the suspect's safe, no question about it.'

'Cal... I'm sorry, Calleigh. I didn't mean...'

'It's fine, Eric. I'm fine. Hope that helps with your interview. See you later.'

**

He couldn't help the stupid grin that was plastered on his face all afternoon. She was intrigued, half the battle was won. Now the question remained, though - would she actually take a step into the unknown and let him catch her?

**

Pulling one of her test weapons from its home in the gun vault, she stepped into the range. _Think, Calleigh, think. What do you know? The Shore Club, a suite, a post-ie note, a key card, no prints. I can't believe I checked for prints - they would have to be an idiot to leave prints on the card in a CSI locker. Whoever left this is cleared to be in the department, there were no visitors before I arrived this morning. _She ran her fingers through her hair. _This is madness. It's just a game and someone wants me to take the bait. _She finished loading the weapon before her and prepared to fire. 'Firing!' Three rounds into the target. _Of course, I don't play games. I just do my job, live my life - my nice quiet life._ Three more rounds out of the magazine. _But... _She lowered the gun slightly, pausing, but only for a moment... three more rounds. _Who? Why? Who?_ She felt the tension leave her shoulders as she slowly emptied the rest of the rounds, the words of the note resounding in her head with each pulse of the weapon she held. _Come to me. Come to me. Come to me. Come..._

**

Calleigh had almost let the three words slip from her mind as the work day came to a close. Heading into the locker room, she almost bowled Eric over as he exited the room.

'Whoa, Calleigh. In a rush?' He wrapped his arms around her waist gently to steady Cal on her feet.

She blinked quickly, her hands resting on his solid chest. 'Ah, ummm... sorry, Eric. I guess I need to pay more attention.' _He's not letting go._

He felt her body tense lightly and eased his grip. 'No harm done. Heading out for the day?'

'Ummm... yeah.'

Eric tried desperately to keep the smile of victory off of his face. 'Do you have any plans or are you just going straight home?'

Her rapid blinking continued. 'I... I'm not sure. Probably just home, like usual, you know.' It suddenly dawned on her that Eric's warm hands still rested on her hips and she allowed her hands to press away from his chest. 'Ummm... Eric?'

He let her go. 'Yeah, Cal?'

'I'll see you tomorrow, okay?'

'Okay, Cal. Have a good night.'

As he walked away, she would have sworn he added _'sweetie'_ to the end of the statement.

**

_Come to me._

_Come to me._

_Come..._ _Who is he? It must be a he, right? But, who?_

She had been driving in circles for an hour, the questions in her mind unending._ Horatio? _She laughed quietly._ No. Not his style and I'm not his type. Ryan? Nope. He's been spending his lunches with Valera in the last month. _

Her circles were almost subconsciously drawing her closer to The Shore Club. _If Speed... well, it could have been him a long time ago._ She blinked away the moisture flooding her eyes.

_Eric? No. It's too bold; it's too..._

**

He paced. He sat. He waited. _Will she come? I think I read her right..._

A knock on the door... their knock... the midnight tiptoe knock.

**

'I wasn't sure you would come. I didn't even sign the note... '

'No, you knew I would.'

'Why do you think that? Do you always respond to anonymous, suggestive invitations?'

She flashed him her winning smile. _'I can't help it. It's in my DNA. I'm naturally curious._ So why exactly am I here, Eric?'

'I thought you'd never ask,' he said as he pulled her into the circle of his arms.

_*******************************_

**A/N: Calleigh's last line is a quote from Blood Brothers, which I obviously did not write and do not own (both possibilities only in my dreams!).**


	4. Nothing to Lose

**A/N: This contains spoilers for the episode "And How Does That Make You Kill?" (Season 7, Episode 3). Read with caution. Also, this is the most T of all DuDe ships that I've written so far... consider yourself warned :)**

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own CSI: Miami or any of its characters or dialogue (I only borrowed two lines, just to set the stage here!)... gosh, what a dream if I could have them! Josh Gracin owns Nothing to Lose, too - not me!

**Nothing to Lose by Josh Gracin (excerpt)**

...Now I'm in the fast lane going 98

By now I know she can

Smooth operate me

I know she's no goody two shoes

But hey I got myself nothin' to lose

Chorus:

Oh yeah, by the way she moves

She's got me rolling in dirt in a white t-shirt

Breaker Breaker 1-9 she's a big ol' flirt

By now she's got me pretty tied up

Tied down, any way I chose

I got nothin' to lose

**

_My god, how does she do that?_

Eric had been lying in his bed for hours, contemplating the ceiling. In reality, the ceiling was not the center of his focus; in his mind, the silhouette of Calleigh Duquense as she turned from him smiling, her confident steps carrying her away from the lab that consumed him.

She had read his therapy file. The idea should have disturbed him... he should have been certain that his file was in his own stack to examine. Truly, there was no reason at all for anyone to read his file - he obviously was not the murderer. Ignoring that logic, though, he had let her read the notes... whether he had intended it or not was irrelevant now - it was done.

Ironically, the moment he had granted her such intimate access to his thoughts did not withhold sleep from him. It was their brief encounter that afternoon that kept him awake, every night, weeks later. She had him tied up, tied down - he didn't know which.

_What does '_We make a good team - I'll see you tomorrow_' mean? She knows how I feel about her - doesn't she? How does she feel about me?_

**

_My god, how does he do that?_

Calleigh could not stop her racing mind. Her thoughts felt like they had been in the fast lane for weeks. Night after night, a strenuous workout, a trip to the gun range, working extra hours on a case, everything she tried failed to slow her enough to yield a good night's sleep. So far no one had noticed, but he would... eventually.

She had read his therapy file. One look at his name and she should have dropped it, never cracked the cover. Truly, there was no reason for anyone to read his file - she knew as well as anyone that Eric Delko was not the murderer they sought. But she could not tear her eyes away, could not help but turn the page.

There was only one word to describe her encounter with him later that afternoon - uncomfortable. Not that her exterior wasn't a picture of typical Southern charm, but her insides were jelly... his smile turned her into jelly. She had danced around her attraction to him for years and now images of his muscled body invaded her dreams when she could actually fall asleep.

_How did he invade me so deeply? What did he really mean that '_It would be nice if it was Calleigh_'? Does he really feel that way about me? Why hasn't he told me himself?_

**

Eric rolled over in his bed, white tee riding up his side as it tangled with his sheets. _Enough is enough... this ends tonight._ Reaching to the foot of his bed, he grabbed the gray sweats he had placed there when he crawled into bed hours ago. He grabbed his cell phone and keys off the night stand, laughing to himself as he replaced his badge and gun in the drawer - those would not be necessary for this errand.

**

Calleigh sat on the couch in the darkness, tank top and boxers hugging her frame as she nestled into the cushions. _I'm not sure how much longer I can let this go on._ She didn't know what she wanted or how she would react when she saw him outside of the lab, but the waiting, the uncertainty was killing her.

**

Pulling his truck into the driveway, he took a deep breathe. All the lights were off in her house, but he was beyond worrying about waking his best friend up in the dead of night. This was more important than a few minutes of sleep.

He was surprised to see the hall light switch on and hear the lock turn after only a few seconds. He found himself wishing for more time to think as her curved silhouette appeared in the door.

'E-Eric? What's wrong? Did something happen at the lab?' Her questions tripped over one another as they spilled from what he now realized were perfect lips.

His eyes slowly made the journey from her slightly tousled hair, her wide green eyes and the curve of her mouth as she worried her bottom lip to the tight fit of her clothes as they grazed her sides, her hips, her legs. Hearing her questions at the back of his mind, he dragged his eyes back up her body.

'Calleigh... I...' He stopped. _No... no... I'm tired of talking._

'W-what, Eric?'

He blinked - once, twice, three times - then he stepped with more confidence than he felt over the threshold and into her space.

**

For some reason she was not surprised to see him there, knew that he was the only one who would show up at this hour. Still, as she opened the door, his motives were a mystery and the almost tactile slide of his gaze down her body sent chills through her.

She forgot her manners and didn't invite him inside. He invited himself. He stepped into her space.

Calleigh felt her breathe leaving her as she was surrounded by his scent - cologne, sleep, rest and, well, just Eric. She looked up into his rapidly darkening eyes. Without conscious thought, she reached out her right hand to steady herself - grasping the front of his shirt in her small creamy-skinned fingers.

**

His breathe caught. She touched him. Calleigh Duquense had touched him.

_Screw self-control._

Mirroring her motion, he trailed his left hand lightly from her shoulder until it rested gently on her hip. She tightened her grip and he moved his right hand to cradle her other hip, pulling her closer to his body.

**

She could feel the heat of his body as he moved closer to her. She still couldn't breathe, but suddenly air didn't matter - there was only him.

His voice came to her as if from a distance, 'Calleigh?' She responded by raising her second hand to lie flat against his heart; the beating soothing her until her pulse matched his.

'I meant it, Calleigh... I was serious when I told my therapist about wanting my life to be with you. It was always you, Calleigh - only you.' His hands slowly crept up her sides until one rested below her breast and the other tangled in the hair cascading down her back.

She shivered lightly and finally took a deep breathe, raising her gaze to meet his eyes again. Slowly, confidently, she nodded and held him tighter against her body.

**

_Well, here it goes. I've got nothing left to lose - she already has my heart._ Breathing deeply himself, he edged even closer to her. Eric began to lower his head, slowly and steadily, until he was barely an inch from her sweet lips. He gave her the chance to back up, to push him away, but she didn't.

**

She raised to her tiptoes closing the final inches herself. She was just as tired of waiting as he was.

**

Once he tasted her, he couldn't hold back. _Consuming._ There was only one phrase for what was between them - _**too much clothing!**_


	5. TShirt

**A/N: I just could not resist this - though it is far from my usual musical styling :) - because, of course, who can imagine what it would possibly take to be driven SO mad as to be sick of one's Jimmy Choos?!?!?!? :P**

**Disclaimer: I am a poor and lowly nanny who owns nothing so wondrous as the CSI: Miami world or the following Shontelle lyrics... only the ideas and dreams are my own!**

**T-Shirt by Shontelle excerpt**

Gonna be late Gonna be late

But, all my girls don't have to wait 'cause

I dont know if I like my outfit

I tried everything in my closet

[Chorus]

Nothin feels right when I'm not with you

Sick of this dress and these Jimmy Choos

Takin them off 'cause I feel a fool

Tryin' to dress up when I'm missin you

I'm steppin' out of this lingerie

Curl up in a ball with something Hanes

In bed I lay

With nothing but your T-shirt on

With nothing but your T-shirt on

**

Calleigh had been out of her mind all day. She couldn't keep a thought in her head. A report left unsigned. Analyses delayed. A sandwich left uneaten on the break room counter. Maxine had noticed; it was her portion of an investigation that was delayed by the unsigned report. Natalia had noticed; it was her case's tool mark analysis that had been stalled on Cal's desk. Alexx had noticed; it was she who was left to clean up the break room in Calleigh's wake.

**

The women of the lab - minus Calleigh, of course, for she was entirely incapable of reasonable discussion at the moment - met in Alexx's domain... in Autopsy. There they plotted... they plotted a course to remove the mysterious cloud of distraction surrounding the ballistics expert.

**

Ryan laughed inappropriately. This was, of course, not an unusual occurrence for Ryan (he had been known in the past to make the occasional social misstep). The oddity of this particular moment was twofold - the corresponding smirk that Lt. Horatio Caine was attempting to unsuccessfully hide **and** the object of their mutual amusement, Eric Delko. It was a rare sight to be seen: the Russian-Cuban, melt-all-women's-hearts, rock-hard-physique, supposed-ladies man, Mr. Delko himself, with an oblivious grin plastered across his kissable lips (neither Ryan nor Horatio had any personal knowledge of this fact, but had only been informed of it by co-workers, co-workers spouses, witnesses, suspects, defendants and other various and sundry women encountered in their line of work). That silly grin combined with his 'head in the clouds' demeanor all morning despite the double homicide they were investigating led the ever astute Mr. Wolfe to assume the obvious - his friend was a love-sick puppy dog who had, to put it mildly, "gotten some" last night. Horatio might have stated the situation more decorously, but in this case, he was loathe to adopt anything other than an "if the shoe fits" mentality.

**

Eric was beside himself with joyful distraction all day. Normally with Ryan, at least, occasionally Horatio and Frank if the situation was just right, he was a man to kiss and tell; this was not one of those cases. This was his moment. It has taken seven long years. He had suffered through Peter Elliot, John Hagen and Jake - watching them with her had almost killed him. Of course, almost dying and waking up to see her face there changed everything. Pulling his mind back together afterward had taken some time, but they had grown closer. So close that she hadn't hesitated in offering her couch for the night while work was done on his condo. So close that their "No Midnight Tiptoe" rule had never been given it's usual restatement. So close that she never offered him any blankets - she had offered him her hand. But, no, this time (and he hoped that _these_ times would last for a very long while) he would not kiss - and there had been WAY more than kissing - and tell.

**

_How did I get sucked into this scheme of their's again?!? Relaxation and time to think - that's what I need. A night at a club is NOT relaxation!_ Calleigh recognized her internal dialogue for what it was - the rants of a woman who did not want the company of her friends on this particular night, but was too polite to say N-O when they ganged up on her. Now, exactly one hour prior to her co-workers descent on her home, she stood in front of her closet confounded. On the floor lay dozens of tried on and discarded garments; in her hands was the rock-bottom of her Clubbing Attire wardrobe - a cherry red, skin tight little number that Maxine had convinced her to purchase prior to their last girls night. She held it up against her body in front of the full length mirror, slipping on the heels the intrepid lab tech had insisted were completely perfect (if extremely overpriced, at least in Cal's mind)... she closed her eyes in disgust, blond hair swaying as her head shook. _I can't. If I go, they will drag the truth from me; one raised brow from Alexx and my secret - our secret - will be toast. If I tell them there is only one place I want to be tonight, they'll understand - who hasn't wanted to curl up in pajamas after a hard day at work! _Decision made, she began dialing to cancel out on her friends.

**

The double from earlier in the day had not been that difficult to solve... especially once it was discovered that the two bodies belonged to a married woman and her pool boy. Cliche? Yes. Impossible? No. With no other cases waiting in the wings, five o'clock greeted Eric with surprising freedom. He had seen the girls (_okay, they would kill me if they heard that! The "women"..._) exit the lab in a small herd (_am I trying to get myself killed?_ he thought) fifteen minutes ago, so he assumed that stopping by her place was not an option. Instead he turned his truck toward the beach. _Better to stare at the waves than to pace my living room floor. Why did she have to go out tonight?_ Even Eric could recognize his whiny voice when he heard it internally. Yes, the beach near her condo would be a good plan.

**

Having made the last and most difficult call on her list (to Alexx... she always wanted to know what was going on with her babies), she tossed the red dress aside with disgust and, as she made her way to the bathroom, leaned against the wall to slip off her Jimmy Choo heels. _Is there something wrong with me that dressing up in these makes me feel like a fool? _she could not help to ask herself. She grabbed a pre-moistened makeup removing wipe from the counter and made her way to the dresser to look for something comfortable to wear. _How can my favorite pajamas be so out of place tonight?_ Glancing down she realized that she would have to find _something_ to wear. Then on the floor by the bed she saw it. _Perfect._

**

Eric glanced at the caller ID, knowing that he would only be responding to two names (Horatio's because he liked his job and hers).

_Hi, beautiful._

Then he listened to the story of her night. An outside observer would have been unable to determine if it was a flush of exertion or a blush creeping over the young man's face as he jogged to the car.

_Just give me two minutes. I'm right around the corner._

**

Neither of them was surprised by his passionate growl or her moan in response to his kiss when she greeted him at the door. How else could an Eric Delko in love respond when Calleigh Duquense answered her door with nothing but his tshirt on?

* * *

Okay, I so rarely ask for this, but I'm feeling a little needy - hey, I admitted it, so help me out here - please hit the little green button below if you have a minute and review! I'd love to hear what you think of my ramblings :) Thanks a million!!! Smiles, CSINaomi


	6. Gotta Be Somebody

**A/N:** Y'all know that I don't own anything, right? I am just poor and lowly me, while CBS & affiliates and Nickelback & their affiliates own all there is to own about lyrics and characters... only my ideas are mine! Okay, now that that's settled, here we go... :) Oh, and Happy New 2009!!!

_Gotta Be Somebody by Nickelback (excerpt)_

_This time, I wonder what it feels like_

_To find the one in this life, the one we all dream of_

_But dreams just aren't enough_

_So I'll be waiting for the real thing, I'll know it by the feeling_

_The moment when we're meeting, will play out like a scene_

_Straight off the silver screen_

_So I'll be holding my own breath, right up 'til the end_

_Until that moment when, I find the one that I'll spend forever with_

_Cause nobody wants to be the last one there_

_Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares_

_Someone to love with my life in their hands_

_There's gotta be somebody for me like that_

_Cause nobody wants to do it on their own_

_And everyone wants to know they're not alone_

_There's somebody else that feels the same somewhere_

_There's gotta be somebody for me out there_

_Tonight, out on the street, out in the moonlight_

_And dammit this feels too right, it's just like deja vu_

_Me standing here with you_

**

There was a time when he would have had a date for tonight. He didn't.

**

There was a day when he could have chosen any beautiful woman in the room to be his companion for an hour, for a night. He couldn't.

**

He couldn't and he didn't because in that room, that grand ballroom on New Year's Eve 2008, there was only one woman he could love with his life in her hands - for a day, for an hour, for a year. So he sat at the bar, while Ryan danced _(can you really call 'geek move' dancing? hmmm...)_ with Valera, while Frank chatted up one of the hostesses and while _**she**_ swayed.

**

_11:58 PM. Two minutes left._ Ryan had his arms wrapped tightly around Valera as they stared at one another, sharing the last moments, one last dance of the year. Frank had succeeded in his quest for a midnight companion and stood with his head tipped toward the brunette, chuckling at the words spilling from her pink lips. And she... she was gone, having slipped from the dance floor while he observed his teammates.

_This is the problem with knowing what you want, Eric. Almost will never be good enough again. _He could have "almost Calleigh" any day of the week. _A petite blonde is not a difficult thing to find in south Florida._ His face twisted into a pained grin. _I don't want almost anymore. I want movie magic with __**her**__... I'll know that it's the real thing then. I'll know that it's the right thing with her._

**

He set his beer down on the bar. _11:59 PM._ There was no reason for champagne if there was no one to kiss when the moment fell. Glancing around the room, he was surrounded by couples. _If I'm going to do this on my own, I might as well be all alone._ He turned from the room and made his way out of the exit. New Year's Eve in a cab on the way home was better than in here.

**

Streetlamps and moonlight illuminated her sheet of white blonde hair as a gentle breeze lifted it from her back. He thought it was dream, another invented scene brought on by the bullet in his head. Until she turned...

**

'It's midnight, Eric,' she said.

'I know.'

'I thought you said that you wished it could be me.'

'I did.'

'Oh.' Silence swirled around them and then, by some force unseen by either of them, his feet carried him to stand before his grand illusion.

He lifted his hands to frame her face... he had to be sure that this was real. The soft warmth of her cheeks as he caressed them left no doubt.

'Are you sure?'

'I'm here. I knew you'd come out.'

He pulled her close, drawing his face down toward hers, hovering just inches above her sweet lips. Her almost imperceptible nod brought their lips together.

**

Sweet.

Fresh.

Lovely.

Calleigh.

**

They broke apart as fireworks soared above the city.

He chuckled lightly. 'Cal?'

'Yeah, Eric...'

'Happy New Year.'

'It certainly is.'


	7. Betrayal

**A/N:** Leave it to Threemonkeys to give me my toughest challenge yet... she certainly gave me a tough one, so hopefully I've lived up to her most high expectations :) As usual, I own nothing - including the lyrics to Betrayal by The Black Maria. It's definitely a bit different than usual... angsty! and I KNOW!

_Betrayal (The Black Maria)_

_I love how they used to say,_

_It's all in your head._

_You're a paranoid picture,_

_You're a photograph..._

_Exposed by the light,_

_When you step outside,_

_Burnt by the sun,_

_That's in your eyes..._

_But when I saw it in my face,_

_In this mirror that needs to break,_

_Something bothered me and_

_left me to feel..._

_Betrayal, Betrayal,_

_It rips right through me,_

_How you lie right to me,_

_Betrayal, Betrayal,_

_Will this world make better sense?_

_Once you mean nothing to me..._

**

It is hard to identify the feeling, the emotion. It came on so quickly and has stayed so long... first weeks, then months. Other than love, it is the strongest emotion that I have felt in a long time. A shame really... feeling this kind of pain, when you hoped for so much.

**

I knew we had to talk about it - my file, my thoughts on therapist's paper. Sure wish I had not waited for so long. It had taken us all day to work the case; there hadn't been a break for me to find her... or at least to find her alone. So it happened in the sunshine, the truth exposed by light.

**

She read it. Of course, she read it; I never expected any less. Once she sat down at that table to search files with me, I made it happen. Yes... I did it on purpose - I, Eric Delko, let Calleigh Duquense read my medical records, my therapy notes. I knew what they said and I let them tell her what I was too cowardly to tell her myself. It is a shame really. I probably should have waited until the words came, the trouble that has followed would likely never have come.

**

What was it that she had said? _You know you can tell me anything._ What does _**that **_mean? Does it mean that I was supposed to tell her? Probably. Am I still supposed to tell her? Likely.

**

I wish it made better sense. She said I could tell her anything, but didn't the words speak right to her? Isn't _I wish it could be Calleigh_ as clear as saying _I love you_? Hmmm. Maybe not.

**

No. It is clear. It is understandable. It is and it hurts, but there is another word for it. If only I could identify it...

**

It took thirteen weeks and three days. That's all and that's not long enough. I found the emotion. I was in the Trace Lab when it hit me.

**

The emotion was... betrayal. Betrayal - to disappoint the hopes or expectations of me. Calleigh disappointed me - she said the wrong thing and we still haven't talked about it.


	8. Come On Get Higher

**A/N: Enough angst for a while in my opinion! So on to more fluff!!! (Oh and I had a little time on my hands as I worried over the Super Bowl - GO CARDS!)  
**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing... that includes the Matt Nathanson lyrics... I'll get over it eventually :)**

_**"Come On Get Higher" by Matt Nathanson (excerpt)**_

_I miss the sound of your voice_

_And I miss the rush of your skin_

_And I miss the still of the silence_

_As you breathe out and I breathe in_

_If I could walk on water_

_If I could tell you what's next_

_I'd make you believe_

_I'd make you forget_

_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips_

_Faith and desire and the swing of your hips_

_Just pull me down hard_

_And drown me in love_

_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips_

_Faith and desire and the swing of your hips_

_Just pull me down hard_

_And drown me in love_

_I miss the sound of your voice_

_Loudest thing in my head_

_And I ache to remember_

_All the violent, sweet_

_Perfect words that you said_

**

Her eyelashes slowly brushed her cheeks and she slowly became aware of the soft sheets tangled around her legs. She reached out her right hand hoping to make contact with a well-muscled chest, but encountered only a slightly warmed pillow. This brought her eyes open quickly. Sitting up, she clutched soft cotton to her chest.

She knew he would never just leave, but she missed him being there. She missed his breath on her skin in her sleep. And suddenly, she knew why she was awake - she missed the touch of his skin.

**

For a large man, for a strong man his fingers were delicate as rain on her skin as they brushed aside the straps of her tank top, as they lifted up the strands of her hair. His breath settled over her like a cloud as he whispered words of love and - okay, she would admit it, if only to herself - lust into the curves of her neck. He melted and molded her curves into his solid form... sweet perfection how they fit together.

She knew it was only ever going to be possible with him again.

**

As she remembered her highs, she was drowning in low. He had left. He had left her bed, their bed. If she had been given to tears, they would have fallen... instead she just ached in remembrance.

**

The door swung open, encouraged by the swing of his boxer-clad hips. He bore two mugs of liquid morning. He could only watch in awe as her face transform from bitter grief to joy-filled abandonment. No words were spoken until he reached the edge of the bed.

She slid the tip of her index finger down his side and under the band of his shorts. _I thought you left me_, she whispered.

He let himself be pulled down over her. _Never, my love, never_ was all she heard against the pulse of her wrists.


End file.
